by Pamela Ann
Shrugging, I whispered, “It’s nothing.” I broke eye contact and started looking over the sea of people. As usual, it didn’t take long until I found Cooper, a guy I used to date to pass the time, flirting with some poor freshman in the background.
“You’re sad he left, aren’t you?” Carter kept on yapping, not letting the subject of my obvious misery go. “Well, what the heck, why don’t you go after your dude?”
Easy for him to suggest, but not that easy to do. Well, not really.
“It’s complicated.” I hoped those two significant words would explain themselves, but nope, no such luck.
Apparently, Carter thought my love life needed to be pried into and discussed right there, out in the open, where people were celebrating whatever in their high mental state of ganja goodness.
“Not really, not to me anyway. And, if you tell me the reason you’re staying here is because of me, I’m telling you you’re not needed here. As you can see, I’m well taken care of. Don’t let these things hold you back. I know they’re good excuses, but trust me when I say that, sometimes, we don’t know where life is taking us. Things can change in a heartbeat, and you not being there after what you did to him, that’s saying a lot. Maybe he’d understand, but what about his family? Go after him before it’s too late. I wish I’d done that with Emma in the very beginning, had my pride not gotten in the way. Maybe if I did that, she wouldn’t have known Bass at all,” he openly reflected for the first time, not holding back from me. “It’s the little things we don’t pay attention to that really fuck you over. When you love someone, don’t hesitate, because you never know when it’ll end, or you’re going to end up like me, with only memories to hold on to.”
For fuck’s sake, I couldn’t stand it. Why did he make it sound like it was the end of the world? It sure as heck wasn’t. Ugh.
“It’s not too late for you, either, Carter. You’re still so young—”
“I know I am, but do you have any idea how difficult it was to fall in love? Let alone what it meant for me,” he somberly said, wishfully thinking. “Some guys just don’t fall that easily. It’s not by choice, but by how nature wired us.” He blew out a breath, reaching out to play with my hair like he used to when I was younger. “Be happy, sis … for us, for you. I would feel so much better if one of us is at least happy in that department. I might be hopeless, but you … You still have a shot at happiness, so don’t fuck this up like you always do. It’s not healthy, and we’re both going to end up single and miserable forever.”
Rolling my eyes at his dramatic portrayal of the future, I said, “Well, at least we can be thankful that, if that ever happens, we won’t have to spread our toxic mentality to our spawn.”
He made a horrified face, shaking his head. “A little version of you? Yeah, that sounds fucking terrifying.”
“Stupid!” I smacked his arm before he started chuckling, as if it was the funniest thing he had heard all day. I enjoyed listening to him laugh and the light banter we had. He was going to be fine, as long as he didn’t get too crazy obsessing over the past.
“You sure you’re going to be fine if I leave? I worry about you, Carter.” I made a face, a look that showed utter confusion. “What’s with you downing Emma’s old perfumes anyway?”
“I didn’t mean shit when I started sniffing it.” He grimaced, as if he was remembering what had happened that night before shaking his head. “I don’t know. It was one of those nights where things came back a little stronger than most, and it was difficult to fight it back. I used to fall asleep smelling her scent … and I don’t know, Linds. Guess shit got out of hand.”
“You think?” It had gone beyond out of hand. It had been reckless and stupid. “God, I thought you were going to die,” I exclaimed loud enough for him to hear how upset I had been yet not loud enough for everyone in the room to gather.
“I’m not that easy to kill. You should give me a little credit. Come on, now.”
I laughed, knowing well enough that he was one solid schmuck. “Sure. That’s what they all say, right?”
He smiled before looking away, as if he was anywhere but there. “I spoke to her the other night.” His voice held a sentimental tone in it, nostalgic. “Hearing her voice … made me feel stronger.”
Begging him to stop pining for Emma was a lost cause. Goodness, when would it stop? “Carter, please—”
He raised his hand to tell me to stop interrupting. “You’re lucky to have had a second, third, fourth, and however many chances that man gave you. But I didn’t get that with Emma. All I can ever wish is for her to be happy now, and she is, though she won’t openly say it. I know she is. Had she stayed with me, she’d still be miserable because, let’s be honest here, Linds, you and I are both a fucked up bunch. And some people won’t ever understand the kind of struggle we face every day. It’s embedded in us, and fighting that kind of battle is exhausting. As much as I wanted to keep her, she’s better off because, sooner or later, I’d find a way to hurt her again. We grew up that way—thinking what Mom did to Dad was right, that it was normal.”
What he said rang with truth. As much as I wanted to deny it, in the back of my head, I was also scared I would do something drastic that would eventually hurt Dimitris in such a way he wouldn’t ever find it in him to forgive me. Exactly like Carter had said, we were a fucked up bunch—a byproduct of our parents’ emotional and mental instability.
*
After my talk with Carter, there wasn’t any decision to make except to take the red eye flight to London then get a connecting flight from Heathrow to Athens.
With my blankie in hand, I went into the hired car en route to LAX. This was a new beginning. Hopefully, I wouldn’t let my past dictate my actions. I was my own woman, not my mother. She and I weren’t the same, though she had given birth to me. I merely had to keep telling myself that until I fully believed it.
Getting off the plane in Heathrow after the non-stop, eleven-hour flight from LAX, I was ready to freshen up and have a light meal somewhere before I started boarding for my four hour flight to Athens in an hour’s time.
Since this was a surprise, Dimitris wouldn’t be meeting me at the airport. I had it all planned out in my head, and I couldn’t wait to see his happy face the moment he realized I would be spending Christmas with him, after all. Though there would only be a couple of hours left before Christmas was over by the time I got there, at least it was better than nothing at all.
Fast pacing towards the nearest women’s bathroom, I did all my womanly bits before finally resurfacing about fifteen minutes later. I had to do some major make-up retouching since I didn’t plan on waiting to get to Dimitris’s place once I landed on Greek soil.
I was lost in my own dreamy world when my stomach decided it was high time for me to take notice. Scampering towards the nearest bistro, my eyes immediately darted towards the menu, just as the hostess appeared into view, welcomingly greeting me.
“For one please,” I murmured before she told me to follow her through, and just like that, something caught my eye.
It was a newspaper and the headline that came with it.
ex-movie star turned greek tycoon rekindling romance with ex-lover
What the fuck? My mind froze, as did the rest of my body. I could hear the hostess calling me, but I was too caught up in my own fright, solely focused on the newspaper that was neatly tucked in its stand. I was staring at it with animosity until my legs realized they needed to function, unsteadily walking tiny steps until I reached it.
Pale and shaky, my hand reached out to the damning paper before pulling it out of its neat pile. Then I saw the photos, shattering everything inside me.
Chapter 14
Lindsey
“It’s two quid, Madam.” The person behind the counter informed me while I blankly blinked back at her, as if not fully hearing her.
“Sorry, I need to—” I stammered, not finishing what I was about to say, I abruptly left, needing seclusio
n to breathe, to cry, to fucking hurl myself somewhere and slowly die without a care in the world.
Dimitris had broken everything. He had the audacity to accuse me of cheating when it was he who was carrying on an affair with that French whore? How could he? I thought angrily as I tore through the crowd, needing some solace.
It was only a week ago when Trista brought me something of similar nature, though it was French media that time. What made me think that type of gossip news wouldn’t reach England? Of course it would. I mean, Dimitris was popular in Europe because he was into acting, but he was more famous due to his last name and his family’s net worth.
In automation, I retraced my steps back towards the bathroom, but that time, I locked myself in one of the cubicles before I started silently weeping.
Though I had only glanced at them for a fraction of a second, the photos were ingrained in my mind, vividly embedded there on repeat, just so I could relive my pain over and over again. As I sat my pitiful ass down, my body went cold as my tears freely flowed. I wondered when those photos had been taken. It sure as heck couldn’t have been right after I spoke to him, now could it? Who knew anymore, but those God awful pictures were far worse than before. This time, it went straight to heart while it gouged it repeatedly, bleeding it raw.
Those vile, disgustingly despicable pictures of Dimitris naked in bed with Claudine’s leg barely covering his genitals while she, too, was naked. Both seemed to have been asleep with her resting her head on his chest. Whatever the article had stated about them had been lost on me because I couldn’t see past those photos.
Dimitris and his endless babble of speeches about not wanting to marry me had all been lies. He clearly didn’t want to end the lifestyle he had. Maybe, through it all, he somehow felt comforted having her around. After all, she had apparently “nursed” him while wounded from the pain I caused during our breakup. I was paying for my sins. Big time.
Suddenly, the speaker in the bathroom was announcing my impending flight to Athens, stating it was now open for passengers to board. Should I even bother going to “surprise” him? I derided myself for being so utterly clueless about Dimitris’s indiscretions. How could I have been so blind and naïve, thinking he would change his sex life because he was in love with me? He was probably used to not having to commit to anyone. Maybe that was why he was finding it rather challenging to do it with me. Yet wasn’t it him less than twenty-four hours before making innuendoes about me and Brody? Was that why he kept talking about it? Because, deep down, he wanted me to look like the bad guy again so I wouldn’t catch him and see what he had been up to with Claudine? No wonder he never wanted to give her up. I fully saw his reasoning.
Biting my lip, I weighed out what I ought to do from there on out. Should I simply go back home and simmer in my hate and distaste of the man I unfortunately loved with my whole heart? Or should I still follow through with my plan, pretend I had no clue what was going on, and give him the chance to come out and fully explain himself without any malice or doubts, simply giving him a platform to disclose all the good and bad with all honesty and sincerity?
I found myself surprised that I was even weighing things. The old me wouldn’t have batted an eyelash. She would have boarded the plane back to the states the second the newspaper caught her attention. It was disheartening that this change had come too late to save my relationship with Dimitris Kosta.
Making a decision not to go back home came at a high price. I had to set my pride and ego aside, putting on a mindset that I was doing this for the both of us and would endure the pain until I knew there was nothing salvageable in our distorted bond of love. The future was unpredictable, but I didn’t want to keep having regrets. Therefore, I would go through the next few weeks or months, depending on how long it took him to confess and what that confession entailed, with an open mind as well as a guarded, shattered heart and unveiled eyes. I wasn’t sure how I would manage it, but I would get through with this, even if it killed me. I wouldn’t give up until I knew we were irrevocably over and done with.
It took me another five minutes to cry a little more and gather my bearings before coming out of the cubicle, heading straight to where the mirror was, needing to take care of tattered lashes and red-rimmed eyes.
I only hoped that, once I land on Greek soil, my old self would awaken. I needed all the armor I could get. Being the woman I was right then—vulnerable, too shaken, and too hurt to even make a decent decision—wouldn’t fair properly if I was to defend what was supposed to be mine. I would go there, ready to face whatever shenanigans Claudine had for me, equipped to handle the lies Dimitris might dish out to me.
Before booking my tickets at the airline kiosk, I remembered thinking the flight from London to Athens was too long. So long, in fact, that it would keep me on edge from too much excitement to see his happy face the moment he realized I had come out early to see him.
For the entire duration of the flight, I didn’t put myself through the hellish nightmare of recalling our good memories; instead, I willed myself to ingrain the photos to memory, as if they were the Catholic’s top-secret code to unlocking the Holy Grail. I wasn’t deceiving myself into thinking everything was Claudine’s fault. Of course not. Dimitris absolutely was involved, too, because this wouldn’t have taken place had he not been in her home. I just wondered how long it would take him to tell me and how much of it would be lies and half-truths, knowing he could very well lose me in a heartbeat.
Even a man in love could cheat. I knew that saying to be true. Carter, for one, was a prime example. He had done what he did, even though he had known Emma was crazy for him. And, deep down, he was in love with her, too; however, he had pushed those feelings aside for a moment of fun and pleasure. As had Brody. Even the perfect Bass Cole. Though he hadn’t cheated on Emma, he had pretty much dated Nikki because it was the easiest thing to try to get over his lost love. He had functioned and done all that stuff with her while he secretly pined for the love of his life.
That was how men were. Even though they would secretly be in pain, they would still carry on doing their manly jobs through sexual endeavors and bolstering their egos, as if they needed validation that they were still a man. Because a real man didn’t fall for pansy shit like love. Because a real man didn’t back down from free vaginas on display. Because a real man was a beast who could do as he pleased without feeling sorry or remorseful, even though they knew what they were doing was wrong. Still, they would carry on as if they hadn’t stumbled, as if they weren’t wounded, as if they weren’t holding on to the torch that was burning them alive, inside out.
But let’s be honest here, if Dimitris did confess to doing the deed with Claudine, did I have it in me to forgive him? I mean, after all, he had forgiven me for a lot of things, including leaving him for Brody. Could I be a magnanimous person and simply focus on how much he truly loved me, how much he had fought to have me, and how much he had battled to keep loving me, even though I had denounced his love from the very beginning, tainted his name and shamed him by walking out on him only ninety-six hours after saying I do?
The daunting question weighed heavily on me since I wasn’t really sure what I would do.
All I knew was how much I loved the man and how much I would suffer to have him. The rest was an endless question mark.
*
When the airline crew announced that we were landing, I had a short moment of indecision, tormenting myself with the thought that I was heading into a disaster and that nothing could ever change the fact that Dimitris had been naked with his very naked ex-lover/fiancée. It was too late to have a change of heart, though. I had already made a decision while crying my heart out in Heathrow’s bathroom, and I must whole-heartedly stick to it.
Never in my life had I experienced such overwhelming anxiety. I was forgetful of which baggage claim terminal I was supposed to be at and had to check it four times. I was so distraught that my luggage passed me twice before I realized that the dark bro
wn luggage that circled me two times was actually mine. Though my eyes weren’t as red as before I had boarded the plane, they were extremely dry and grainy.
The cool night was a little wet yet an agreeable temperature that didn’t chill my bones as I stepped out to wait for a taxi. I hadn’t taken into account how bothersome that would be at that early morning hour.
The moment I secured myself a cab, I gave Dimitris’s address, feeling as though I had to prepare myself for the most important acting role of my life—portraying the clueless, trusting girlfriend I once had been.
The Greek driver was too jovial in contrast to my fake smiles. His sunny personality made me realize that it was Christmas, after all, and I could spare a smile or two, not making someone else’s day just as miserable as mine. The situation was no one’s fault but myself. I had placed too much trust in one man’s hand, and I was paying for that gullible decision.
With a heavy heart, I looked out the window, haplessly studying the scene before me, hoping Dimitris was still at his Pappou’s home, still celebrating the night. From what I could recall from our prior conversation, he had meant to stay over for dinner and beyond since his family was rather large. It consisted of aunts, uncles, cousins, and distant relations that came to celebrate the holiday at Elias’s palatial home. As he had told me before, those things could go on forever, so I shouldn’t be expecting his call.
That is, if he truly is with his family and not spending his precious time with the French slut. God, if he really had cheated, I was going to raise hell like he had never seen. He had met the crazy Lindsey, but I doubted he could mind the psychotic side of me.
The sadness and betrayal I had immediately felt after seeing those photos had somehow evolved into a twisted sense of strength and empowerment. I had the power to control how this played out as long as I kept myself and my feelings in check. I could very well manipulate it to my favor if I played the sweet, clueless, loving victim to a fault.